


Slicked Up

by DeepDisiresLonging



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Oral Sex, Smut, Sunburn, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 14:22:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20391139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeepDisiresLonging/pseuds/DeepDisiresLonging
Summary: Sam gets sunburned and accepts some help from the reader. When she needs the same help later, things get hot in another way.





	Slicked Up

“Really?”

Amused, you followed the sound of frustration to the matching bedroom door. It didn’t creak as you tapped it open. “All that height and those long arms, and you can’t reach your own back?”

Sam turned to give a smart retort. He bit back in a grimace instead.

You had to take pity on him. The last hunt had ended well. And there was a beach down the road. But years of doing night work meant the guys forgot something.

Sunscreen.

You got out okay. Only a bit of redness on the tops of your shoulders. Dean ended up covered in freckles. And Sam… not so good. He’d lost his shirt after only an hour. Not that you complained at the sight. But now he was standing in front of you brighter than a homegrown tomato. He’d probably start peeling any time now.

“Need some help?” you offered. Taking the little green bottle from him, you started to gingerly spread the aloe over his shoulders. He winced. You went slower.

He sighed as the cool began to set in. “You’re not going to say it?”

“Nope.”

“Thanks.”

Brushing away his long hair, you kissed the back of his neck. One of the few unburnt places on his body. “No problem. Just be merciful if it happens to me, alright?” Sam turned and tilted your chin up for a deep kiss. “Thanks for the promise.” Stepping back, you got a good look at his chest. It was just as damaged.

Sam blushed under your scrutiny. “I was trying to do the more difficult part first.”

You picked the bottle back up and got to work. The slow pace really did work better. It gave you time to appreciate the curves of him. The dip between his muscles. The occasional raised scar. You’d been to busy trying to shorten his agony to enjoy the same view of his back. As you trailed up to his pecs, Sam hissed. But not out of pain.

Teasingly, you flicked your thumbs over his nipples. His mouth fell open.

“Y/N-“

“Done.”

Without a second glance, you left him, and his new hard-on, alone.

***

He got his revenge a couple of weeks later.

A rare daytime hunt for a ghost. The darn thing kept appearing during college classes. Scaring the bejeezus out of some freshman engineers seemed to be the perfect payback for their untimely death. The unlikely flash that came at the end hit you full-on. The hunt was over, but you felt like you’d been sunburned over a week in an instant.

When you got back to the bunker, your view in the mirror concurred.

Every inch of your skin that had been visible during the blast was painfully burnt. The very fabric of your clothes irritated your skin. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the glare off the windows that had been behind you singed your back as well. Damn ghosts. All things considered, you’d take ectoplasm any day.

“Need some help?”

Sam was leaned against your door frame. He was sincere, though a smug grin simmered beneath the surface of his smile.

“Yes please.”

Slowly, gingerly bordering on tenderness, Sam helped you out of your clothes. Then, as you had weeks ago, he softly applied a layer of aloe to your burns. With a sigh, you relaxed under his touch. The longer he went on, the easier it was to breathe. His large hands spread the gel across your shoulder blades, betrayed by your tank top. Then he reached around to help across your chest and collar bone. You gasped as his hand barely wrapped around your throat, warm from his body heat, but with the cooling touch of the medicine.

“Feeling better?” he rumbled in your ear.

You licked your lips. “Yes. Sam-“

“Almost done.”

He sank to his knees. The short shorts you’d worn to blend in with the freshmen had left your legs exposed. They too were burnt. Sam worked up from your ankles, spreading the coolness up your calves, over your knees, your thighs… and then a little higher than the burns. But not high enough. Not enough to ease the thrumming between your legs. You curled your fingers in his hair, tugging his face and hoping you could get him close enough to smell how much you needed him.

But he rose to his feet. “There you go. All slicked up. Need anything else?”

With a whine, you tugged at his shirt.

Sam laughed high and tugged his shirt back down. “Oh no. You gelled me and then iced me. So… I’m going to go now.”

You caught his wrist before he could leave. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I can make it up to you.”

“Probably.”

“Please?”

He arched a brow. “Did the blast fry a few memories, or did you forget how to ask nicely?”

You swallowed. Hard. The timbre of his voice had shifted. Deepened to that lower register that made you drip.

“Try again.”

“Please… Sir?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Better.”

For a second you didn’t breathe. Sam flicked the wrist you were holding out of your grasp. With it, he guided you back into the wall. The bed was only a flicker in his sight.

“Can’t have you laying down. All that aloe? You’d stick to the sheets.”

Again, he sank to his knees. This time he took your shorts with him, helping you to step out of them. His thumb rubbed and down over your lower lips. Sam hummed as your wetness soaked through the fabric. He hooked a finger into the fabric resting on your thigh, tugging them down and away slowly while looking up at you. He growled as you bit back a whimper. A warning. He nipped at your thigh. Obeying, you let out the small rush of air. It was a start. He’d make you loud soon enough.

Very soon.

Spreading your stance wide, Sam opened you up so he could see how much you were glistening. He hummed. “It never takes much with you. You get wet at the drop of a hat, isn’t that right?” Not leaving you time to answer, he flattened his tongue against your sex and lapped up the top layer of wetness. “Always so sweet,” he said, smacking his lips. Licking and sucking and teasing. Sam knew you best. He knew how to string up your neediness and how to leave you hanging. Your desperation made you buck down onto his face. Which made him pin you to the wall by your hips.

The closeness between the wall and your burns made you hiss. Sam loosened his grip. But only barely.

He waited to add fingers until you desperately weaved your fingers back into his hair. No tugging. No guiding. Just resting your hand there to ground yourself for the onslaught of pleasure you knew was coming. One, then two, fingers curled and scissored inside your pussy. You cried out for more. Pleading and begging with every breath. Sam gave you more. His eyes stayed on you. He watched when your head fell back. How your chest rose and fell with heaving breaths. He sucked on your clit when your throat swallowed the dryness of your mouth. He loved how perfect your lips looked when you moaned his name.

Shivering and quaking, you fell apart on his tongue. He slowed his feasting as you breathed your way back into the present.

Since your knees were still unsteady, when he stood, he wrapped your legs around his waist. It took some finagling, but his jeans and briefs dropped to the floor. His length bobbed up between your bodies hotter than the rest of your body.

“Deep breath.”

You took it. Then let it out as a slow whine as he filled you. His head fell to rest on your shoulder, grunting as your walls adjusted around him. He waited until you whispered his name, nipping at his ear for good measure.

“Sir… fill me.”

One slow drag out. One quick thrust back in. The wall scrapped at your burn painfully. But other things hurt as well, in the best of ways. His strong grip on your thighs. His other hand curled into your hair. The twinge of ache in your neck as he tugged your head back. A yelp passed your lips as he returned your bite, nipping at your neck. Then, of course, there was the smack of his hips against yours. The rough feeling between empty and full. Stars danced at the corner of your vision as he twisted his hips, searching for the spots he knew would make you louder in one way or another.

Sam hissed as your nails bit into his own not-yet-healed sunburn. You took advantage of his open mouth to fill it with a kiss. And a little bit of tongue.

So close.

His thrust became more desperate. Occasionally erratic. Eagerly you bounced on his cock. Over and over again, it speared you. He could have cracked you in half down the middle and you would thank him.

“You going to cum for me, Y/N? You going to cum all over my cock?”

“Yes,” you panted. “Yes, Sir, please. So close-“

“Then cum.”

A few more thrusts later, you did. Every muscle in your body went rigid. As the waves of pleasure overtook you, you fell lax in his arms. Sam kept thrusting and grunting into your shoulder until his body did the same thing. One growl as his body stiffened. And then a quiet sigh of your name as he let the pleasure fade out.

Your combined releases slid down your leg as he lowered you to the floor. Blushing you confessed, “I’m all messy, Sir.”

Sam brushed your hair out of your face. “We can fix that with a shower.”

“What about all my aloe medicine?”

He leered. “Then I guess I’ll just have to slick you up again.”

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with this idea a couple of years ago when I went to Italy. Originally it was an Elias Samson fic, but I haven’t written Sam in a while and it felt right with him. Feedback is super appreciated!


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